


Are you down with dropping out?

by KassieProphet



Series: Ghost Prompts [37]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Claiming, Cunnilingus, F/F, Female reader insert, Multi, Pegging, Threesome - F/F/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, sex outside, the 1960s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24540706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KassieProphet/pseuds/KassieProphet
Summary: EDIT: 7/25/20Chapter 2 AddedOG Tumblr Prompt:Can you do something with a girl’s first time with young Nihil and Imperator?New Prompt:A young Papa Nihil getting spitroasted by young Imperator and reader, both with straps?
Relationships: Papa Emeritus Zero | Papa Emeritus Nihil/Original Female Character(s), Papa Emeritus Zero | Papa Emeritus Nihil/Sister Imperator, Papa Emeritus Zero | Papa Emeritus Nihil/Sister Imperator/Reader, sister imperator/original female character
Series: Ghost Prompts [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536134
Comments: 42
Kudos: 24





	1. A meeting of minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr Prompts:  
> Can you do something with a girl’s first time with young Nihil and Imperator?

The bar is crowded and full of smoke. The smell of weed coats your nose and the tobacco sinks right into your hair. Girls swirl around you in a whirl of flowing sleeves while men saunter in their paisley. On the dance floor, you see a woman in a white go-go dress tongue a pill off the pad of a dude’s index finger while holding her long, ironed hair back from her face. In a corner, a tall, black-haired man is preaching to a circle of women who are cross-legged on the dirty floor—their gazes adoring.

He’s what you’re here for.

You saw him performing the night before, and his oddly-white eye had bored though the muscles and sinews of your body like a laser, holding you caught in his gaze like a tractor beam. You’d wanted to stay, to meet this man—but your friends had wanted to move on to the next party (somewhere up in the hills) so you’d been obligated to leave.

But tonight … tonight is your own time.

Despite the pull, the  _ need _ to meet him—this Nihil—you falter a few steps away from him, hands grabbing onto the edge of the bar for bolster.

“Captivating, isn’t he?” says a voice close in your ear.

You startle, then turn to lock eyes with a blonde woman in a mod dress. Unlike the other women in the bar—with their blown pupils and vacant stares—her posture is straight and her hair is in a loose chignon. She looks you up and down, one surprisingly sharp nail tracing lightly down your cheek.

Both her eyes are a clear green, but they capture your attention just as much as his had.

“You copasetic, baby?” she asks, and you can hear the laughter in her tone.

“Y-yes,” you gulp.

Her finger slips under your chin and lifts your face up.

“Hmm. I think you are. Would you like to meet him?” She flicks her head in the man’s direction. Her lip curls in a dangerous way.

“I-If it’s not too much trouble?” you sputter in the face of her archness.

“Runyon Canyon Park—behind the sign—after dark. You dig, baby?”

When you just blink at her owlishly, she runs her finger over your bottom lip.

“Yeah, you do,” she says before sauntering back over to Nihil.

All she does is stand next to him, but he stops to take up her hand and kiss it.

* * *

L.A. can get cold at night—especially higher up—and you shiver despite your cardigan. You’d been concerned about not being able to find Nihil and The Woman, but the smoke from their fire and then its warm glow call out to you like a beacon in the … well, night.

As you approach, a shadowy outline of a person becomes clearer until you realize that it’s  _ her _ . She’s in a blouse and capri pants with a lacy, black shawl wound around her upper body. She smiles in that dangerous way she had from the night before, and reaches a hand out to you—palm up.

On instinct you take it, and her warm fingers curl into yours just as her sharp nails press into your palm.

“Ah, our little flower made it,” she coos.

Your mouth drops open to speak, but she keeps going.

“Papa and I have been expecting you.”

She helps you maneuver over the uneven ground, the light of the campfire making it harder because of the way it causes the shadows to dance across the scrub. Your eyes adjust slowly to the change between the dark of the trail and the harsh of the flame glare—but when they do, you see Nihil on a log murmuring softly to two women in white shifts; they’re gazing up at him adoringly from where they’re lying on the blanket-covered ground.

Nihil suddenly lifts his head—his white eye glinting—and locks gazes with The Woman. Something passes between them, and she nods.

“Come with me, little flower. Papa is just finishing up his rap with our new—ah, hmm …” She arches her eyebrow at you. “First things first.”

She still has your hand clasped in hers, and she uses the connection to tug you into the direction of the Hollywood sign. You look back over your shoulder at Nihi—who now has his hands under their chins—but then The Woman is pulling you forward.

“Aren’t you afraid of getting caught by rangers or something?” you ask, gesturing vaguely behind you, as you stumble along.

She places her hand against the L. “Some places—some symbols—are full of inherent power imbued upon it by its worshippers.” She turns back to you, her shawl slipping down one shoulder, the firelight dancing in her eyes. “One just needs the skill and the … gift … to know how to use it.” Her eyes flick back to Nihil. “Don’t worry, little flower. No one will interrupt us tonight.”

“My name’s—”

Her gaze focusing back on you, she holds a finger up to your lips. “Who you are isn’t as important as who you will be.” 

“Are you …?”

“You may call me Sister Imperator, just as he’s Papa Nihil.”

She circles around so that she’s behind you, hooking her head over your shoulder and grabbing your jaw with one hand.

“Look.  _ Look _ at your city.” She starts to whisper into your ear. “Now, little flower, close your eyes and  _ feel _ your city. Open yourself up to it, let it in.”

Following her instructions, you close your eyes and breathe in deeply before slowly exhaling. Sister Imperator presses herself into your back, and you quickly match her deep breathing. Her hands stroke up and down your arms—but instead of being distracting, they help center you. You try to do as she says, contemplating the vastness of L.A. and inviting the energy of it into your core.

You begin to float as your mind wanders then eventually goes blank and

When you come crashing back into yourself, you’re standing alone, and it’s much darker than it was. Alarmed, you turn around—but the fire is still going and Papa Nihil and Sister Imperator are snuggled together on the log. 

The two women are gone. 

As if sensing your gaze on them, the two look up in your direction. Papa Nihil opens his arms wide as Sister Imperator beckons you with curling fingers. Carefully, you make your way over, and Sister Imperator gets up so that you can sit next to Papa Nihil.

“Ah! So this is the little flower my Seestor has been telling me all about.” He gives you a once over, and you feel his gaze on you acutely. “Came to the show, did you? Wanted to learn more, eh?”

“Yes, um, Papa.” You can’t quite verbalize the  _ pull _ you felt. “It was a gas,” you say lamely.

“Hmm, I see you quite clearly—yes!” His warm fingers grasp your chin and gently turn your head this way and that. “There it is.” He taps lightly at your forehead. “A good girl—but not  _ so _ good, yes?”

You blush and look down, but he raises your head back up.

“No need for shyness, petal. No need for guilt. No need for modesty.”

He traps your eyes with his own. 

“Would you like me to open your mind?”

The only thing you can do is nod, and so he continues. He talks of darkness and of light; of conformity and freedom; of oppression of thought and acceptance of human desires. The more he says, the more you feel yourself being drawn into his orbit.

By the time he’s talking about his Church being one of self expression and  _ wouldn’t you like a life free of the guilt of your upbringing? _ you’re practically in his lap—his hands are stroking your face, combing through your hair, and stroking down your sides. One hand rests on your thigh, and—when you don’t remove it—it slides down so it can gently lift your leg over his.

Now, you’re a hair's breadth away from the line of his body. Your heart beats a loud tattoo against your ribs. He leans forward, and it skips a beat. 

“In my Church, lust and carnal knowledge is a celebration—not a sin.”

Just when you think that you’re going to finally find out what that paint tastes like, you feel a presence behind you, and you flinch a little. 

“It’s just me, little flower,” breathes Sister Imperator into your skin as she strokes again down your arms. Papa Nihil chuckles and tucks a lock of hair behind your ear.

“Seestor and I share, petal,” he coos, and then his mouth is on yours, his tongue pressing for entrance. At the same time, Sister Imperator places a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck, and it sends shivers down your back. You twitch and you moan into Papa Nihil’s mouth.

Papa Nihil’s large hand dips in between your legs to press at you, and Sister Imperator’s smaller ones reach around to cup at your breasts. When you gasp, your head rolls back, and Papa Nihil starts to kiss down your neck as Sister Imperator begins to nibble at your ear. You moan as a great throb pulses between your legs, and you reflexively push into Papa Nihil’s waiting hand. Sister Imperator yanks open your cardigan to thumb at the gauzy crepe of your blouse, and the feeling quickens your blood to pool between your legs.

Your head lolls to one side, and you’re aware of them kissing over you, each pressing into you so that you’re firmly squashed in between them; they rub against you, and you rub against Papa Nihil’s hand. At some unseen signal, they both suddenly break away from you. You cry out at the loss—you’re body not knowing whether to lean forward into him or back into her—and you wobble.

“Hush, child,” says Papa Nihil as he caresses your cheek.

Even as you’re leaning into his palm, Sister Imperator’s hand trails down your arm and clasps your hand in hers. She helps you up and leads to a blanket spread out on the ground.

“Do you wish to join us, little flower?”

You feel dizzy from kissing and from all the blood heavy in your cunt. You’re high on the city and on Papa Nihil’s sermon. Though you’ve never done this specifically before, oh do you want to now with every pulse of your clit—so you nod at her, eyes hooded

She gives you a vulpine smile.

“Strip then, baby.”

You hasten to yank off your top and to wiggle out of your broomstick skirt—you’re not wearing any kind of underwear, and Sister Imperator purrs when she notices. Despite the chill of the night air, the fire and the petting have left you flushed and overheated, so the coolness feels good against your skin.

When your clothes are bundled into a pile, you notice that Papa Nihil is also nude and already on the blanket, propped up by one arm. He’s pasty—and a little soft—but otherwise an attractive man, and his hard cock lies heavy on his hip.

“Join him,” commands Sister Imperator, and she points to the open spot in front of Papa Nihil. “You,” she snaps at him, “no touching until I say.” 

He grins up at her. “Yes, Seestor.”

As she disrobes, you settle yourself on the blanket, facing Papa Nihil. His eyes drink in your naked form, then he winks at you. When Sister Imperator joins you, you see that she’s in sheer lingerie, her nipples and triangle of bush dark and visible. She’s positioned herself up on her spread knees, looming over you.

“Now, does our little flower like having her petals opened?”

You have no idea. Free love or not, most of your lovers had not been open to making love with their faces. She must see the answer in your face, since her gaze softens.

“Well, let’s find out. Papa, would you like to taste her nectar?”

He nods, his smile lopsided, and rolls onto his back. She pats softly at your flank. You’re not quite sure what you’re supposed to do, until Sister Imperator smirks at you and says,

“Well, sit on his face, baby.”

Straightening up, you shuffle over on your knees. When you look over at Sister Imperator, she holds out her hand, and you take it—using it to help steady yourself as you swing a leg over Papa Nihil’s neck. His smile turns into a grin, and his hands come up to dig into your thighs and ass. Sister Imperator gives a sharp smack to his hip, hissing out “Did I say?”, and he quickly retracts his hands, pouting.

She must think he’s sufficiently chastened, because she smiles softly down at him. “Ok, Papa,” she says, and makes a “proceed” motion. His hands—gentler—come back up to your thighs and pull you onto his mouth. When his tongue makes contact with your folds, you gasp; when the tip presses onto your clit, you moan at the explosion of sweetness.

You don’t even realize that you’re rocking your hips until the movement is interrupted by Sister Imperator’s hand grasping onto your chin so that she can turn it to face her. She leans in to kiss you, and it’s a hungry thing. While Papa’s kiss was all spit and tongue, hers is all lips and hint of teeth.

Under you, Papa Nihil moans. It makes you crack an eye open, and you see that Sister’s arm is moving, ostensibly because she’s jacking Nihil’s cock. Continuing to ride his mouth, you sigh into hers and bring your hand up to rest lightly on one of her breasts. You thumb gently at her hard nipple, and she makes an  _ Mmm _ sound before grabbing your wrist; she slides your hand down to her panties, and you’re slightly surprised to find that they’re crotchless.

Tentatively, you slide your fingers up and down her seam; she’s wet, sticky, and you have no trouble slipping in a finger. You do a careful exploration until she almost growls into your mouth, her teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip. You proceed to circle her clit with the pad of your finger before giving it a few gentle presses and then rubbing it up and down, back and forth; she lets out a throaty moan.

The three of you suck and rub and stroke at each other, a feedback loop of pleasure quickening in intensity. Papa Nihil is flicking his tongue in an ever increasing speed over your hardening clit; Sister Imperator is rocking into your hand (and you swear her slick his dripping off your wrist); you can’t see Nihil’s cock from your angle, but you’re sure it’s sticky with precum.

Just when you start to feel Papa tense under you, Sister straightens, and he groans.

“Ah, ah, ah, love,” she says as she breaks away from your kiss. “Not yet.”

Your arousal is a simmering thing, constant and very close to a boil. Your thighs are beginning to tremble, so Sister Imperator removes your hand and leans down to whisper into Papa Nihil’s ear.

“Look at our sweet flower, Papa. Isn’t she lovely like this? All flushed and open for you? Don’t you think you can do better?”

She strokes his cheek before shuffling around so that she can straddle Nihil’s body behind you. Her hand runs up your sweat-slick flesh to pinch at your nipples. You sigh as the feeling goes straight to your clit, which answers the touch with a soft pulse. 

“Lean into me, baby.”

You do, and it takes the strain off your thighs. Your head falls back onto her shoulder as you press and push into Papa Nihil’s tongue. He’s kneading your ass and she’s pinching your nipples as you undulate in time to the throb of your clit. Your orgasm approaches, and you begin to tremble at the strain of reaching it—but her well-timed pinches and his presses of tongue have your pussy tightening, ready to climax. You start panting, and Sister Imperator clamps down hard just as Papa Nihil dials it up to 11. You arch away from Imperator and mash into Nihil’s mouth as your orgasm breaks and you start spasming in time to each intense throb of pleasure.

Once you finally come down, you slump back into the slight but solid body of Sister Imperator. She coos and pets at you, then maneuvers your heads so she can kiss you deeply. When she breaks the kiss, she looks down at Papa Nihil.

“What do you think, Papa?”

He grins. “Very  _ rrr _ ripe,” he says, rolling his “r” and grinning from ear to ear.

“Such a compliment, little flower. Do you think you should give him a reward?” She purrs into your ear, and her nails trail lightly up and down your body.

You sigh contentedly and stretch. “I do, Sister.”

“Then why don’t you sit on his cock, mmm?”

You’re more than willing, and you scramble to position yourself over his cock.

“Thank you, Seestor. Thank you,” Nihil breathes.

As you’re running the tip of his cock through your wetness, Sister Imperator is wiping off Papa Nihil’s mouth with the edge of the blanket. You sink down on him—moaning at the feel of him inside you—and you’re surprised (even though you probably shouldn’t be) when Imperator turns around and sits on his face. He moans—whether from the feel of you around his cock; the tastes of her on his tongue; or both—and she takes up his hands to place on her thighs.

You begin rocking on his cock, concentrating on the way he stretches your walls and how you can mash your clit into his curls. After a few moments, Sister Imperator leans forward, and you instinctively know what she wants—so you lean forward as well; the two of you—while rocking on Nihil—capture each other’s mouths, lips pressing against lips and tongues tangling. Your hands reach up so you can grope at her breasts before you slip your fingers under her bra. The bra shifts up, exposing her tits, and you massage them in your hands before rolling her nipples in between your fingers.

She hums, pleased, and reaches down to swipe at your clit. You sigh into her mouth at the sparks of pleasure, and you can feel her smile.

Eventually, though, she pulls back so she can concentrate fully on Papa Nihil’s tongue on her clit. Soon, she’s twitching and moaning as she cums, her back hunching over so she can brace herself with palms flat on his torso.

When she’s finished, she looks at you, eyes sparkling in the light of the fire and the moon. You’re hot, breathless, and bouncing on Papa Nihil’s cock. Her finger once again finds your engorged nub, and she swipes at you—her mouth quirked and her tongue half sticking out.

You don’t know whether to ride Papa’s cock or press into her finger, but between both sensations you’re soon again at the precipice—sweat dripping down your body and cunt pulsating. You moan out—sounding distressed even though you’re anything but—as you clench around Nihil and as your pussy pops.

Somewhere, Papa Nihil moans—but you’re too lost in the height of your pleasure to pay much attention. When you feel Imperator retreat, you open your leaden eyes. She crawls off Papa’s face, then leans down to stroke his head and to stage whisper into his ear.

“Claim her,” she hisses in excitement.

Before you know it, Nihil’s sitting up and grabbing your thighs—you’re hoisted up, then laid flat on your back. Papa Nihil crawls over you, then plunges his cock back into you. You gasp as he sucks at your neck and pommels into you.

“Ah! Ah, ah! So sweet!” he cries out as his hips slam into you. “Oh, sweet Lucifer,  _ yes _ !”

“In the name of the Olde One!” cries out Imperator, and you see not only that she’s dressed again, but also that she’s raking her nails up and down Nihil’s back. You’re languid, sloppy from orgasm, and just taking it as Papa Nihil worries at your neck and uses your cunt for his own pleasure.

“In the name of the Olde One!” he echoes.

“Yes,” she hisses. “Make her one of us! Bind her to us! Fill her up with the seed of our Dark Lord!”

Papa Nihil lets out a snarl and slams hard into you, his face a pinched “O” of pleasure as you feel the heat of him spill inside you. Then he collapses on you, breathing hard. You pet lightly down his sweaty back, and when you turn your head, you’re confronted with a smiling Sister Imperator—who is laying on her side next to you.

“You’re ours now, little flower.”


	2. A Spitroast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Tumblr Prompt, but I decided it worked well as a slight continuation.
> 
> Prompt:  
> A young Papa Nihil getting spitroasted by young Imperator and reader, both with straps

Sometimes you’re not sure who you’re seeing for really reals.

Nihil captured your attention, but it was Imperator who brought you in. You spend more time with Nihil—listening to him pontificate—but it’s Imperator’s tune to which you dance, jumping to her every beck and call whenever she's in the mood. The two of you spend an inordinate amount of time together satiating Papa’s appetite … but it’s Sister you crawl to at the end of the day to please.

Little trinkets seem to come from the both of them—small baubles to braid into your hair and incense purported to relax the body and open the mind. So when Sister Imperator has a Ghoul—its malevolent aura and diaphanous form filling up your cramped room in its simple robes—deliver a box, you’re pleased and unsurprised.

And then you open it.

Set into a belt of leather, is a fake penis. You hold it up, the buckles clanking and leather creaking softly, trying to discern its use.

“Ghoul?”

“U̴̬̱̇n̴̲̭̜̒̏͆k̴͎̈́͝n̶̻̯̓̔ͅo̸̢͇̱͆̋͛w̴̻͒̏n̵͚̖̾:” it says as faint tendril wisps emanate from its mouth area.

You try not to look directly at it.

After some trial and error you find it’s not for your mouth, and way too high for your waist. But it fits perfectly for riding low on your hips, and it makes a sort of sense for a fake dick to hang where a dick would go, if you had one.

You shake your hips a bit, giggling when then penis waggles.

“C̵̥͖̙̏͂́o̵̬̽m̷̖͊͌̓ë̶͖́͝.̶̼̖̟̑ ̸̬̔B̴̟̱͒r̴̰̩͗̅i̸͔͙̓̿̂n̸̜̋́̕g̵̫̐” says the Ghoul.

“Um, ok.”

You unbuckle the contraption, winding its straps around your hand as you proceed to follow the Ghoul.

The old and abandoned Abbey is still a work in progress—it’s cold when the temperatures dips, the roof leaks with just a hint of morning dew, and the structural integrity is questionable. The Ghouls do most of the heavy lifting, but the several dozen or so of you humans pull your weight as well. You’d just finished a grueling day scrubbing the mildew in the kitchen when the Ghoul had knocked on your door.

It brings you to the quarters of Nihil and Imperator—not that it’s a shocking revelation: it was either here or her office.

Sister Imperator opens the door just a hairbreadth’s before you and the Ghoul reach it. She’s in her casual black robe, and her hair is down—if there’s been any question about this being a work summoning, it’s gone now.

She looks the Ghoul up and down—and you detect just the barest amount of distaste before she hides it with a smirk—then lifts its chin with a finger.

“Thank you, Ghoul. You did a good job, and now you may go.”

It chitters at her and then seems to float off down the hallway.

Sister watches it skitter off, then turns her gaze on you.

“We’ll get them better next time.” Her eyes flick down to what you hold in your hand, and her smirk turns onto a smile. “I see you got my present, baby. Wanna come in?” She steps back from the entryway, allowing you passage.

You slip in, and she closes the door with a quiet  _ click _ behind you. Her robe slips slightly off her shoulder to reveal the white, Victorian chemise under it.

“I think I understand how to use it, Sister—but not how to …  _ use _ it.”

She slinks closer, dislodging a tendril of your hair with her finger only to tuck it behind your ear.

“Oh, it’s not so complicated, little flower. Are you down for some fun with Papa tonight?”

She knows you are, but she’s never satisfied until you’ve laid yourself open and bare, unequivocally.

“I am, Sister.”

She looks you up and down.

“Strip.”

You untie the simple robes of your station and let the fabric pool at your feet. You unhook your bra and step out of your panties.

Imperator slips behind you, her unbound breasts brushing against your arm and her nose trailing from your shoulder up to your ear. One hand reaches across your abdomen to the contraption in your hand while the other slides down your wrist. You shiver when you feel her lips against your ear.

“Can I put this on you, baby?”

“ _ Please _ ,” you whimper.

She helps you into the whole situation before turning you around and brushing her lips on yours; you part them, ready to be kissed, but then she yanks you by the fake dick.

“Now listen to me, little flower: this is your cock. When you have it on, it’s an extension of you as much as these are.” She thumbs at your pebbled nipples, and you gasp. “I expect you to treat it as such.” She pinches your nipples hard. “Got it?”

“ _ Yes, Sister _ ,” you squeak.

Imperator smooths her palms down your body.

“Wanna have some fun with Papa, baby?”

You lean into her touch. “Yes, Sister. W-what kind of fun?”

Her body recedes from yours, and you watch as she picks up a contraption of her own.

“Have you ever heard of spit roasting?”

* * *

The two of you enter Sister and Papa’s bed chambers once both of you are nude and strapped in. Papa Nihil is already on the bed—nude and on all fours. You wonder how long he’s been waiting like that … but with Imperator, you’ve learned not to question things. His head is down, but you can tell his face paint is smeared, and you wonder if Sister Imperator has already had some fun with him.

She was very clear that your role was to let Papa … suck your cock  _ enthusiastically _ . You stroke the silicone thinking,  _ This is my cock. This is  _ my  _ cock _ . You watch as Sister gets up onto the bed and pets down Papa’s flank.

“Soon, my pet,” she says, and then she spreads his cheeks.

You look away, embarrassed, even though Imperator had walked you through the scene and you already knew about the butt plug. He’s still your Papa, and even though you’re about to face fuck him, he deserves a modicum of privacy. You hear him grunt and the soft murmur of her voice.

Louder, she says, “Look, pet. Our little flower is here. I know you’ll do your best to please her. Thank her for taking time out of her rest hour to pleasure you.”

When you turn, you lock eyes with Papa. His gaze is half reverent, half hungry.

“T-Thank you, petal.”

You nod. “Of course, Papa.”

Sister Imperator gestures at you, and you mount the bed, positioning yourself in front of the man. Gently, you stroke his sweaty hair.

“Will you suck me, Papa?”

He opens his mouth just as Sister Imperator sinks into him; it pushes him forward onto the  ~~ dildo ~~ your cock, and he makes a low moan as he’s suddenly filled at both ends. Sister Imperator is starting to trust slowly, and—when you catch her eyes—she makes a “go on” motion at you.

With a steadying hand behind his head, you start to rock into him, entranced by the way your cock disappears into his mouth, then pulls at his lips as it comes back out all shiny with spit. He looks up at you briefly, his eyes doe-eyed wide, until Sister hits his sweet spot and they roll back into his skull.

He hums around your cock in ecstasy—momentarily forgetting to suck, so you grip into his hair and thrust deeper.

“You’re supposed to suck me, Papa.”

“Yes, little flower—he is.”

She cracks the meat of his ass, and he snaps back to attention—a whine escaping from his lips as he starts sucking you again. You smile, starting to get into this, and look up at Sister. Her dangerous half smile is back on her face, and her hands move to grip at his love handles. When she looks up at you, her lips part into an open-mouthed grin as she starts to pound into him hard.

“He can take it, baby. Can’t you, pet?” Nihil hums. “You can let go—he’ll let you know when to stop.”

Biting your lip, you slowly begin to thrust deeper into Papa Nihil’s mouth. There’s a  _ gluping _ sound, but you watch as even more of your cock disappears into him. You press further, and it slips all the way in—but you pull back out quickly when you hear him start to gag. You’re surprised when he chases after you.

“See? He likes it.” She winks at you.

The blood quickens in your veins, and a slight throb pulses between your legs. Emboldened by his arousal and yours, you start thrusting deeper, faster. Both your hands are now on his head as you use your cock to face fuck Papa’s mouth. By the time you and Imperator have a matching tempo, his face is wet with spit and tears, but he’s moaning like a cat in heat.

Your thighs are sticky, but you’re not sure if it’s from your own slick or sweat—maybe both. With her hooded eyes and tongue hanging out, you bet Sister is the same, and you lick your lips in memory of her taste. You wonder if Papa can smell you.

Probably. And the thought gets you going.

You adjust your kneeling stance to have better leverage. Closing your eyes, you take all of your unsated need and turn it into the gusto you need to drill your cock into him, shoving it down as far as it will go, and then pushing it in some more. You hold his head down against the base of your cock until Papa sputters, and then you pull him off, delighting in the way his saliva trails in sticky lines from your cockhead to his mouth as he coughs wetly.

“Fuck, flower. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

You look up at Sister Imperator—who is absolutely  _ railing _ Nihil as he grunts out in time to each punch of his prostate—and beam at her.

“You said he could take it.”

“So give it to him, baby.”

Papa Nihil gets out half a moan before you’re cramming your cock back into his throat, and then he’s gurgling. Sister laughs.

The two of you continue to thrust into him at both ends as he whines, his body unsure if it should press back into Imperator or forward into you.

When the sweat is dripping off his body and he’s trembling either with the need to cum or the strain of holding himself up, Sister Imperator decides it's time to put him out of his misery.

“Ok, pet,” she says as she pets down his flank, her thrusts slowing. “You’ve taken us so well. I’ll give you what you need.” He whimpers. To you she says, “Make sure he’s filled, but let him breathe.”

“Yes, Sister.”

You both resume pumping, albeit slower and with shallower thrusts. Nihil is trembling now in earnest, letting out little mewls, and you’re worried his arms might give. You watch, captivated, as Sister reaches in between his legs, and starts to jack his cock.

Papa lets out a throaty moan and rocks forward so suddenly you’re afraid he might impale himself on your cock. Sister Imperator’s arm flexes rapidly as she continues to pump into him in quick little fucks. You barely have to do the same—Papa is sucking your cock like it really could kick and shoot a load down his throat.

His motion stops when he starts screaming, and you shove forward to keep him filled. Your eyes flick to Sister’s; she looks like the cat who ate the canary, her arm unrelenting even as Papa Nihil jerks and jolts.

He finally does collapse on his front arms—your cock slipping wetly from his mouth and bobbing obscenely—and whines into them.

“Seestor,  _ please _ .”

Smiling wickedly, Imperator jacks him a few more times as he twitches and mewls before letting go and giving his rump a comforting pat.

“So good, my pet. So good. Now:  _ relax _ .”

You slump down on your own haunches as you watch Sister Imperator slowly ease her cock out of his hole.

“Thank you …  _ thank you _ ,” murmurs Papa before he rolls onto his side and immediately falls asleep.

Hands on hips, Sister lets out a content sigh before unbuckling her cock. Following her lead, you do the same.

You’re just opening your mouth to ask, “What now?” when she knees across the bed to you.

“Well, I don’t know about you, little flower, but that got me in a lather.”

Her mouth gently presses into yours, but the teeth at your lips convey her need. You run your hands across her breasts, kneading them briefly and thumbing hard nipples before slipping one hand down her body. Your fingers sink into the curls of her bush before slipping through the wetness you find and into her lips.

She moans once before dragging you down onto the bed with her. There’s a flurry of hands on breasts and pinching at nipples—hers, yours, both—while your tongues gently tangle and she sucks your lips. Finally, she guides your hand back down to her pussy, and then her fingers plunge into your own folds. Moaning, the two of you clumsily swipe at each other’s clits as you rub against each other, the smell of both your arousals mingling into a heady perfume.

Feeling your orgasm approaching, you tip your head back and begin to pant.

“Oh oh oh, I’m gonna …”

Sister Imperator sucks behind your ear, and then your pussy is tightening as you tense; you let out a grunt as your body starts to twitch and the waves of your climax pulsate through your cunt. She kisses at your neck, her finger gentling circling your clit, until you come down.

Your hand is resting on her thigh—pleasuring her having been momentarily forgotten—but you have a better idea. Kissing down her stomach, you make your way to her cunt. She just leans back on her arms, eyes hooded, as she watches your progress.

You sigh when your tongue finally tastes her, and you lap at her a bit before sucking her clit between your lips. She groans, and her hands fly down to sink into your hair—this might have been your idea, but she’s going to drive it. Holding your head in place, she rocks into your tongue—letting out sighs of pleasure—as you lap and swirl and press at her.

When she starts to quake and her folds soften, you quicken your tongue. Her thighs suddenly clamp around your ears, and she rides your face as she rides out her orgasm. Even when her body relaxes and her legs splay open, you lap at her with gentle strokes of your tongue. Finally, she stills you with a slight push to your head.

“Very nice, baby.” You smile up at her. “Come up here.”

You crawl up her body, and she engages you in a soft kiss. When she pulls away, she runs a finger down your cheek.

“You can stay or you can go back to your quarters—but,” she boops your nose, “if you stay I expect you to help with cleanup. Lucifer knows that one is never any help.”

You giggle. “Yes, Sister,” you say as you lean over to pick up the strap on.


End file.
